Savannah courier. (Savannah, Tenn.) 1885-1979, 1887-11-03
"OUR MARY"


looked up with start,
The speaker stood in my hallway.
"Av'ye PLACE, I'm Mary McCart,
An me co sin beyant in the Bayhive
Waz tellin' av' me to-day,
Ye be wantin' help, so fought I'd step in,
AS CHANGED TO be pasi this way"
steaded myself by Teds cradle,
Night and day I'd watched DER that child.
Hoping and doubling and fearing,
Till it seemed must go wild.
Only desperate mother
Half-crazed with worry and care,
Can know how welcome to me was the form
That saw in the doorway there.
swell, Mary" said I, without preface,
II don't know how well you can do,
But you see how it is here-this baby,
They say, can not live the day through;
II you have the heart OF a woman,
Or the least spark OF pity can feel,
Hang your hat on the nail there and do up my
work"
Says Mary: "All right, ma'am, we'el"
This was Mary-so cheerful and willing
She did as she liked a few days,
All knew was the children "took' to her
And were loud in proclaiming her praise.
When the terrible crisis was over,
And Ted began slowly to mend,
Twas then discovered her merits,
For Ted was hard child to tend
"Tired, Mary?' so often I've asked her
When, the kitchen all "tidy and nate"-
Shed don her fine hat with bright roses,
To "sthep down forninst on the str ate."
No matter how great the days trials,
How hard she had toiled or how long,
The answer was always forthcoming:
me tired! Oh, no. ma'am I'm sthronpn
kept Mary years. All her young strength
Was cheerfully used at my need;
found her, in sunshine or shadow,
True and loyal-a treasure indeed.
When John was sent West, all the children
At first refused stoutly to go,
For Mary wouldn't leave Massachusetts
With her poor "co sin" ailing, YOU know,
We didn't forget Mary, however,
And, OF course, when came East went
To the Beehive" to call on "Our Mary"
With presents the children had sent.
For minute the girl did not know me-
She was tending her dead cousins boy
But when she saw clearly it was an old frient
She burst out a-crying for JOY
1t was hard for her tending that baby,
And taking in washing as well;
really felt sorry for Mary,
And wished she might rest up spell.
] told John thought we should help her
But John-well John said that he knew
Mary must have sum out at interest,"
Perhaps cool thousand or two.
lwish I'd insisted. John always
Gives in to me, after awhile
But I'll own fell in with the notion
That Mary had snug pile.
She was firm, too, about that poor baby
1t was the dead cousins request
She should care for the child-or else am sur
We'd have taken her back with us West.
Ted, our baby, was just entering college
When we came to New England 'for good !;
And soon made search for "Our Mary"
As always had planned that would
Time flies, and knew she was aging
Was quite an old woman, in truth
And knew she couldn't choose places
The same as she did in her youth.
All, well! suppose 1t is natural
To be careless of service that's past;
But this fact gave me small consolation
When got news Of Mary at last.
Even John felt condemned, when 'twas tol
him
That Mary used oft to lament
Over being transferred to the almshouse
Where foreign-born paupers are sent.
She wasn't sick long, "just worn out like"
They said, and the child had died first.
1t was well-to have left that poor orphan
Would have troubled our Mary the worst.
John saw that they both had head-stone,
And their graves are well cared for each yea
Yet never can think of poor Mary
Without sharp remorse and a tear.
To-day there are many stout Marys,
Running tireless at each beck and call,
Gvng freely their young lives in service
Their faithful devotion, their all.
Whenever hear thoughtess women
Their servants begin TO berate,
tell them OF one faithful servant
Whose true worth / saw when too late
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